FOR THEY CANNOT DIE ANYMORE, BECAUSE THEY ARE EQUAL TO ANGELS.

[cccorp]

Today, the canals of Mac Anu flow as gentle as they always do, gondolas drifting lazy through the paths of sunlight cut bright across the water. Shops and vendors line the stonework streets along the waterways, a general murmur of NPCs circulating through their preprogrammed business keeping Mac Anu, as always, feeling maybe a little more alive than a real city.

There is one particular bridge that nearly every player's taken at least once, because it connects to a great many other places of interest, and it's wide enough for easy travel. Besides, with the professions update, they've put a fishing spot on the other side of it. NPCs with fishing rods litter the spot in alternating shifts, their laughter mingling with the calls of shopkeeps advertising cheap prices for some simple plants to get started crafting with, and the clink of forks and plates at a restaurant nearby, its customers singing the chef praises.

Below the bridge, a gondolier passes, humming, his gondola drifting along its circuit through the canals, his tune in rhythm with the passing conversation. As he comes out from under it and sails further away, he glances up at the bridge, as if he were expecting something, and he seems to see it. His gaze remains fixed there until, eventually, the water takes him out of sight again.

Today, you might notice that at the base of this bridge, just before your feet, is a red sort of smear.

A little further down the bridge, about a fourth of the way along it, is a person collapsed on the ground. The red trails to him, fallen forward.

You see upon approaching his hand grasping at his throat at the singularly cut sliced deep into his neck. His one good eye wide and unblinking, he is—among all the laughter and conversation on either side of the bridge; in the shadow of the clock tower, which stands a silent witness, the sun at its back—no longer breathing, his body cool to the touch.

Perhaps this could be considered a kindness: for one who failed, time and time and again, to grasp the desire to live, maybe he found some suggestion of it in his last moments, his hand at his throat, his palm smeared with dried blood, a curious anomaly in the deathless Mac Anu. Fragment had, after all, taught him a great many things. Should he not be grateful for one more, no matter how permanent the lesson?

Mithrun is dead.

Comments

[threatmewted]

[...]

[insinning]

...I logged in to find Mithrun like this. He hasn't despawned, even though...

[Shaking his head. Sinclair hasn't turned his gaze away from the corpse, even though he should be by all rights, someone who crumbles like a wet paper bag. There's a strange blankness to him today, still. Like he's not sure what side of things to fall on.]

I've been calling his phone. He's not answering.

[selfconcept]

No comment.

[ Again, because Hien is infuriating.

Welcome to Fragment, Noe. ]

[threatmewted]

[She goes pale.]

So- so hang on, he's seriously-?

[insinning]

[Hunching over, grabbing his own wrist. If he leaves imprints of his own nails in his skin, that's normal.

Fine even. Pain keeps him anchored here in this unreality]

I don't know. I've been calling and calling. If I could, I'd visit but...

[threatmewted]

Are you friends with him?! Was he getting any glitches before this happened?!!

[insinning]

Just the usual ones that affect all of us.

[He's not going to bother answering that first question. Of course they're friends]

[rebelles]

Vogel...are you alright?

[ The look on his face seems to be more than just shock at stumbling on a horrible scene. Haru is in reeling herself. Just the other day, Mithrun had been her opponent, strong and undefeatable. The still body there being him doesn't feel real. ]

[threatmewted]

He wasn't stuck or anything?

[tylorific]

[ Tylor is here at some point, the commotion drawing him in after he logs in for the day. Predictably late. Always late, even when it's important. He glances happily to everyone's faces, the brightness of it unwavering even when he finally sees Morgan's collapsed form.

He's seen Morgan die. But he's never the first to know someone he loves is gone. And he never believes it the first time. Not the first, or the second, or the third. It's too hard, when his memory is still full of them alive. Breathing, warm, alive. But this is a game. Just a game. And everyone always wakes up eventually in game.

His hand meets the barrier, fingers curling slightly to test its give. He's still smiling, his gaze not shying away from any of it; the injuries, the carnage, the beauty he still finds there. He never had shied away from Morgan in all forms, and he doesn't start now.

He laughs, and then calls out breezily in full volume-- ]

Oh, come on. This isn't a very funny joke, you know.

[ As if Morgan might sit up and admit to teasing everyone any moment now.

He'll stay here for a while, staring. Too long for the smile that never fully goes away, but it mellows the longer he is here. This hits differently than Ganymede collapsing. His body is still there. Why is it still there? The unanswered question lingers.

Eventually, Tylor slides down to sit peacefully with Morgan's body. There's whiskey and a plate of cream puffs set out. Either to welcome him back or to entice him to wake up. He isn't responding to any of his texts either. And he doesn't much feel like playing without him today. Sally the Shiba Inu is here, sitting and waiting too. Her tail isn't wagging. There are so many unanswered messages, he wonders if Morgan is avoiding him again somehow.

Unless someone stops him, he'll be here for hours. With the occasional truffle tossed and rebounding from the barrier and a disgruntled mumble--- ] This really isn't funny.

[insinning]

[Haru's voice gets Sinclair to move. Just a glance over, his gaze shifting as if reality has registered around him. He digs his fingers into his wrist a little more]

...I will be if he responds to my calls.

[insinning]

No, nothing like that.

[Would Mithrun would have been aware?]

[userunfriendly]

[ It's so different from the day at the cathedral — but not any more reassuring, for that. Hani, frozen, is every bit as unsettling as Hani in overt distress. Michel approaches quietly, watching crimson blooming over their robes. ]

Hani.

[ There's no thought that follows that, just a number of wordless questions bound up in the name. ]

[threatmewted]

So it's something else this time. Great!

What are the admin doing about it?

[insinning]

...I don't know. I didn't feel ready to ask him anything. But the barrier must be his doing.

[threatmewted]

Useless as usual!

[She makes a frustrated noise.]

So what, we just sit around knowing someone else got messed up and then keep on playing like usual?

[rebelles]

[ The two them must have been close. Haru can't imagine the worry he must feel right now. ]

Do you know anyone who can check up on him? Maybe his phone is silenced...

[ She wants to sound hopeful for Sinclair, but she can only think of so many reasons Mithrun isn't answering, and few of them good. ]

[selfconcept]

[ He's right here................ ]

[insinning]

There's someone who could.

[ Mithrun lived near lots of people after all. But he had checked the forums and Hani...]

...no one's there to answer the door apparently.

[threatmewted]

[She said what she said YOU KNOW YOUR CRIMES!!!]

[insinning]

[he likes you hien but he's also traumatised rn so no defense squad here ]

[insinning]

[ He hasn't stopped staring at the corpse ]

...we wait. And see what we can learn.

[murrmoire]

[ SLIDING IN-- ]

He really is! He kept saying "no comment" when I asked him if Mithrun'd be okay in real life!

[threatmewted]

Yeah, well. You have fun with that.

[Turning to go SURELY SHE CAN FIND SOMETHING BETTER TO DO.]

[murrmoire]

You're no help! Whatever, we'll figure it out ourselves!

[ BYE!!! ]